it would have been a Tuesday
by the calendar created at the start.
the sun collapsed against the horizon
in a hundred different strands of color
pleated against the ocean like fabric
on a young girl's first, best dress.
while a spider watched as the world ended,
colorless it stayed dangling by a silken thread
in the cool of a wind swept beach,
as life slipped beneath the earth.
the last sunset, the last settle of dew
on the last strands of crab grass
at the last place where the sun was seen
by the last spider that ever lived.